I used to do this every week. And by “used to” I mean “for 3 months.”

It’s been so long I bet some of you have never even seen WTF? Wednesday, that special time when we contemplate and appreciate the verbal whack flowing from the mouths of babes. Or the brilliance. Mostly whack.

Let’s start with a cute one:

Rocket: “Mama, why do you have to go to school?”
Me: “So I can get a job someday.”
Rocket, looking very concerned and sincere: “But you already have a job. Your job is to homeschool Meeeeeee!”

Can we all just say it together…AWWWWWWW.

____

Ava: “I want to be a NASA engineer, a mom, a cook or a nurse. As a back-up plan, I’ll be the first woman president.”
Me: “That’s a solid back-up plan.”
Ava: “Well, by the time I’m big everything will be so messed up they’ll need somebody smart to fix it. To get elected, I’ll tell everybody what they want to hear, then I’ll do whatever I want once I’m president.”

Remind me not to vote for her if she’s ever running.

____

Ava: “Fourth grade is really a turning point. Kids are so much more mature. You know we say things like ‘not necessarily’ and appreciate lady Gaga and people don’t make farting noises as often.”

I don’t know, people. I just don’t know.

___________

Rocket, trying to coax Georgia to come over to him…”Georgia, come hhhheerrrree….I have something for youuuuuu…it’s right here…look, you can choke on it…!”

Oh come on you know I couldn’t make this shit up.

_________

Rocket, playing with Georgia: “You’re a cute 20 minutes!”

Me: “Rocket, what does that mean?”

Rocket: “She’s cute for 20 minutes. Then she’s annoying.”

Huh. That’s funny, that statement pretty much works for all kids, and most people.

_______

Rocket: “I’m more of a lollipop kind of guy.”

Me: “Rocket, what does that mean?” (Yes, I say that a lot.)

Rocket: “Exactly what I said. I’m more of a lollipop kind of guy.”

Me: “Right. I got that. But you’re more into lollipops than what?”

Rocket: “Everything.”

_________

Ava, as people drove by our house with super loud bass playing: “I bet Georgia has more teeth than those people.”

Me: “That’s not very nice. They could have a whole head of excellent teeth.”

Ava: “No, they spent all their money on that stereo and then couldn’t afford dental care.”

I have NO IDEA where she gets that inappropriate sense of humor.

______

Rocket: “Mama, could you please be less annoying?”

Me: “I don’t think so.”

Rocket: “Why don’t you just try to be less annoying one week at a time. That way you won’t get overwhelmed with the change.”

Gonna be honest, actually considered that suggestion seriously.

Happy WTF Wednesday!

Gonna be honest, I enjoy reading the vandalism in bathroom stalls. I mean when the hell else do you have that much entertainment while peeing?

Well, unless you consider watching a toddler remove the contents of a bathroom vanity entertaining. If that’s entertaining, I get entertained daily. But I find it more annoying than entertaining.

And there’s always a lovely variety of little bathroom memos, depending on where you are, of course. Dive bars and music halls always provide some super riveting stuff involving penises and who loves whom (I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself with the “whom” thing) and all that nasty dirty stuff. My favorites though are the I’m-hammered-and-weepy-because-I-just-found-my-boyfriend-kissing-some-slut-so-now-I’m-going-to-write-horrible-things-about-him vandalism. You know, like “Johnny Smitherman gets it on with farm animals.” And then his phone number.

At my college, there’s like cultured vandalism. You know, English majors getting all deep and shit, quoting Whitman and whatnot: “And your very flesh shall be a great poem.”

I’m sure old Walt is elated. “I sound my barbaric yawp over the pissers of the world.”

And the Jesus people. “Jesus loves you.” I always want to write back “Jesus wants you to stop defacing other people’s property you fucking dumbass.”

But I don’t.

Actually, there are all kinds of things I’d like to tell the general, young, female idiot population in bars and music halls [how do I know they’re idiots, you ask? Because they’re writing in bathroom stalls]. You know, I’d like to just write a few words of wisdom and little tidbits of awesome.

I wish I wouldn’t say things like “little tidbits of awesome.” I mean shit. Not only is it meaningless, but I sound like a geeky old person when saying it.

Oh well. The cool ship sailed a Long.Time.Ago, as I have demonstrated for you folks on more than one occasion.

Anyway, here are a few things I’d write on a bathroom stall, were I the type of person to write on bathroom stalls:

1. Ladies, someday you will stop being so competitive with each other, because you will realize other women are not the problem. MEN are the fucking problem.
2. Oh come ON, admit it. You love it when Cyndi Lauper comes on the radio. You also love “Born in the U.S.A.” by Springsteen. So stop trying to be so cool.
3. Speaking of cool, that hipster guy you’re with? Yeah, he’s totally boning your best friend.
4. No, honey. No. He is never going to leave his wife for you.
5. You think you’re hiding it, but we all know how drunk you are. And we think you’re an idiot. And no, you can’t dance. You are not smooth. Not smooth at all. You do not have moves like Jagger.
6. Even when you’re doing that super-slinky I’m so hot don’t you wanna nail me dance? Yeah, it’s still bad and we still think you’re an idiot.
7. I realize you’re 21 years old and easily excited, but really sweetheart, there’s no need to squeal EVERY SINGLE TIME you see your friend across the room or OMG THAT ONE SONG comes on.
8. Less perfume. Less make-up. Less hair-flipping. Fewer fake tans. Fewer lower-back tattoos. Fewer walks of shame. Better world.
9. This will suck tomorrow.
10. Most importantly, if you flirt with my oddly attractive husband one more time because I’m older and less hot than you, my stretch marks and I will kick your teeth in. And then, I will write about it in the bathroom stall.

And with that, lil’ ladies at the bar, I bid you “goodnight!”

Haha. That was fun.

 
And please vote for me…would ya? I won’t write about it on any bathroom stalls, I promise.

1. When I was a kid, my mom would often announce on a Saturday or Sunday morning “Hey kids. We’re going to the beach. Come on.” And we’d jump and squeal and get in the car and go. It was only 30 minutes away. We’d play, all day, in the sun and sand. We’d eat hot dogs. We’d come home in the evening, sunburned and exhausted and uncomfortable from sand and dried salt water.
2. Those are some of the best memories of my life.
3. Sometimes, I wake up and announce “Hey kids. Come on. We’re going to the beach.” And the kids jump and squeal and we get in the car and go. We did it on Friday. Mac had the day off. We drove just north of San Francisco, just beyond the Golden Gate Bridge to the Marin Headlands. We were there all day. The kids ran and jumped off logs and assaulted dead jellyfish with sticks. Georgia ate sand and sucked on large rocks. I sat on a blanket and watched the surfers and waves and sunlight. My heart beats for California.
4. Anyhoo, just wondering, do really inappropriate conversations sometimes evolve in your house, without you meaning for them to happen? Yeah, it happens to me on a semi-regular basis. For example, this:

Ava (walking along the beach): “It smells like the Further concert.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s because somebody is smoking marijuana.”

Rocket: “What’s ‘juana?’”

Georgia: “whaa-na. na.na”

Me: “It’s an herb people smoke to get high.”

Ava: “Is it illegal?”

Me: “Well, yes. Sort of. I mean technically it’s illegal, but it’s not illegal like acid or crack.”

Rocket: “What acid?”

Ava: “What’s crack?”

Georgia: “Ack.”

Me: “Can we talk about something else?”

5. I have all kinds of winning moments with my children. I also had a winning moment with a police officer. I got pulled over. He asked me if I knew why I got pulled over. I said “no,” and meant it. He said “Well you were talking on your cell phone.” And I said “but I had it on speakerphone.” And he looked at me like I have some sort of disorder and said “Um, but you were holding it up to your mouth. What’s the difference between that and holding it up to your ear?” And I looked at him and smiled and said “Sir, I am an idiot. Please give me a ticket for being an asshat.” Then he checked my insurance and let me go.

6. I met a woman recently with 11 kids. ELEVEN KIDS. She’s an undergrad where I go to grad school. I sometimes just sit there and stare at her with my jaw agape, wondering. Just wondering. ELEVEN FREAKING KIDS?

7. Ava’s taken to sleep walking on occasion. I’ll be in the living room doing something fascinating like writing a blog post and she walks in and sits down, silently. I say “hi,” knowing she’s asleep, she rubs her face and looks at me. Then I take her back to bed. It’s slightly creepy.

8. Please don’t tell me that only disturbed kids sleep-walk. I used to pee in the backyard in my sleep, and clearly, I wasn’t disturbed. I mean look at me. This face screams “not disturbed.” Or something.

9. After my dog gets a bath he runs around in circles, full speed throughout the house, stopping for 9-second intervals to roll around on the carpet and grunt. Incidentally, I think he got that from Rocket.

10. Anyway, hope you all have a great week. If you have a moment, perhaps you could look over to the left and hook me up with a vote for Circle of Moms Top 25 “funny mom blogs.” You click that link, then scroll down the page to Renegade Mothering, then click “Vote”. If we all work together we can stop The Bloggess from winning more shit. Just kidding. She’s freaking hysterical. But she’s already arrived, damnit! It’s somebody else’s turn. Only fair.

xoxoxo

Marin Headlands. Beauty.

before she started tasting it she played in it

inspecting dead jellyfish

We already know this, but let’s say it again just for funsies: toddlers are lunatics.

Beyond pooping on themselves and attempting to grab it, waking up ready to party at 5am no matter what time you put them down the night before, and seeking out their own physical demise on a pretty much hourly basis, they have some seriously warped social behaviors.

For example, the grabbing stage.  Also known as the biting stage, whacking stage, or pinching stage.

I have a grabber.

Oh yeah. That Georgia. She’s a mean one these days.

A couple days ago we were at Little League practice (holy hell it’s started AGAIN), and there was this super sweet little girl around 13 months toddling around, kind of following Georgia, who was of course sprinting around the bleachers like a bat outta hell while yelling “apple” [which is odd, considering none of us had an apple].

So this little munchkin walks up to my 19-month-old (looking rather calm and innocuous I might add), Georgia’s looking at her like she fears she might knife her, or steal her imaginary apple (oh I don’t know I’M GUESSING).

And just as this little girl gets close, Georgia stares her down with the toddler death eyes and just gives it to her. BOOM! Grabs her little cheek like a little hellion.

My heart jumps. I immediately hold Georgia’s arm down, telling her “no” and “gentle.” She’s looking at me like “Whatevs, mom. That kid was all up in my business.” I tentatively release her arm and BOOM! She does it again. I move her. I apologize profusely.

So yeah. I have the evil grabber kid.

Usually mothers are pretty understanding, well, if they have a kid who’s been through this stage. The Little League mom was way cool – apparently her innocent-looking toddler assaulted some unsuspecting newborn at a recent playdate. Score. Real mothers. LOVE THEM.

But most of the first-time mothers whose kids haven’t reached this jewel of a phase look at me like I’m some sort of trash-dwelling creature with trash-dwelling creature offspring. I wonder if they think we all walk around the house grabbing each other’s faces when we’re mad.

You know, they’re still all smug and shit, basking in the infinite goodness and purity of their little bundle. Sure it’s never going to change.

Pshht.

Just wait, lady. Your little beam of sunshine will soon be gnawing the nose off her friend’s face.

And you’ll feel bad. Soooo bad. And you’ll get embarrassed. And you’ll look up quickly at the eyes of the mother, wondering what you’re gonna get: “Oh, no worries. My baby does that too!” — or that face. That furrowed brow and quick sweep picking up her baby and moving away – the face and body and gesture all saying “come on, honey, let’s get away from this obviously deranged toddler and her obviously subpar mother.”

When those women, those “If you were a better parent your kids wouldn’t be such assholes” women (I stole that from Sara, a commenter on this blog, because it so perfectly summarizes The Attitude. You know the one.) look at me with that face of disdain, I like to imagine the day when they get the call from the school informing them that their little Johnny bit Sally on her forehead during Circle Time.

Buahahahaha!

Payback’s a bitch.

Cause now Johnny’s an ass-kicker too, and you better hope that other mama isn’t as smug as you were…or you’ll be getting The Face. Oh yeah, The FACE.

Then we come home and Georgia does THIS, and I feel it again: Freaking nutjub toddlers. All of ‘em.

Face-grabbing to monkey-towel grinning in 2 hours flat.

And I’ll take her as she is.

So a few minutes ago I Googled “Occupy Wall Street Official Statement” because, well, I was curious about the Occupy Wall Street official statement. I found this. While reading it, because there’s something wrong with me, I started cracking myself up by tweaking each statement [in my head] to address the annoying things kids do. About halfway through, I realized perhaps I should share this, just in case some of you had any remaining doubt regarding my insanity. Also because I love you. So here you go.

The Official Statement of the “Occupy Single Family Homes with Children” movement.

We are the 99%.

We are older, have more experience, and earn more money than them, and YET, they continue to control our lives, treat us like butlers, seize our time and lives without a shred of concern for our well-being, mental health, pocketbooks, or civil rights.

As we gather together in solidarity to express a feeling of mass injustice, we must not lose sight of what brought us together. We write so that all parents who feel wronged by Offspring Forces can know that we are your allies.

We are the 99% and we will not relent.

As one people, united, we acknowledge the reality: that the future of the human race requires the continued existence of children; and therefore, we can’t mow them down completely, rather, we must protect them, feed them, nurture them, but it’s up to each of us to protect our own rights, as parents, because this system is seriously corrupt.

This ain’t no democracy. This is like a dictatorship in reverse, only there’s more than one dictator and they’re all under 5 feet tall and watch The Backyardigans.

We are the parents. We are the 99%. And we demand change.

We come together at a time when children, who place fun over reason, disarray over order, ceaseless racket over quiet, flipping out over sleeping, pooping in diapers over the use of toilets, run our houses. We have peaceably assembled here, in the front and back yards of our Single Family American Homes, as is our right, to let these facts be known:

1. They have taken over our houses with their goddamn toys, despite our continued trips to the Goodwill.

2. They have taken bailouts from grandparents with impunity, and continue to do pretty much nothing to earn their weekly allowances.

3. They have poisoned the food supply with their incessant pickiness and undermined grocery store trips with nonstop whining, complaining and finagling.

4. They have continuously sought to strip us of our right to negotiate for better pay and safer working conditions, mostly by making us so damn busy and tired we no longer care that our jobs suck ass. Well that and we need the paycheck.

5. They have held us hostage with tens of thousands of dollars of debt toward their education, extra-curricular activities, clothing, food, and toys made in China.

6. They have consistently outsourced labor by manipulating younger siblings into doing their chores.

7. They have sold our privacy by telling inappropriate facts about our family to their friends’ parents, mostly in the form of what mommy said to daddy last night, without concern for what that behavior may do to our future as respectable figures in the eyes of the community.

8. They have used military and police force in the form of small, plastic, surprisingly sharp figurines that stab us in the soles of our feet repeatedly, break our vacuums and pollute our floors.

9. They have threatened our health by deliberately declining to engage in simple hygienic activities, despite our pleas for decency. They won’t wash their hands. They whine when they have to bathe. They pee on the back porch. Through this behavior they bring every form of viral illness into our homes. They are unrepentant snot spreaders.

10. They determine economic policy without concern for our savings, selfishly eating obscene quantities of food every.freaking.day, outgrowing their clothes on a regular basis, and demanding character-building activities such as sports, music, and social events, which they enjoy for 3 weeks and then refuse to attend.

11. They continue to block alternate forms of transportation by requiring 40 pounds of gear per 10 pounds of human, keeping us dependent upon SUVs and mini-vans.

12. They control our minds and torture us in the form of sleep-deprivation and voodoo guilt tactics.

13. They have purposely covered up food spills, stains, broken household items, and other disasters in pursuit of not getting in trouble.

14. They keep tight control of the media by demanding the same freaking book every single freaking night and requiring us to watch shows that don’t say “fuck.”

15. They continue to create weapons of mass destruction, mostly in the form of their own bodies, which fly through the house like tornadoes, destroying without remorse all things in their path, treating the precious Single Family American Home like a twisted personal playground, forgetting they are the 1%, forgetting we have rights, forgetting OTHER PEOPLE LIVE HERE.*

*These grievances are not all-inclusive.

To the mothers and fathers of the world,

We, the Parents of America occupying Single Family Homes with Children, urge you to assert your power, if you have any left.

Scrape your exhausted ass up off the floor. Get a fucking babysitter. Exercise your right to peaceably assemble; occupy front yards; occupy back yards; create a process to address the problems we face (and yes, we’ve already thought of birth control), and generate solutions accessible to everyone (Duct tape? Chicken Wire? Ear plugs? WHISKEY?).

Get creative people. The Offspring Forces are plotting as we speak, gathering in the sandbox during playdates, contriving ways to continue their dominance in the sacred territory of the Single Family American Home.

Join us and make your voices heard!

I know. I KNOW. I have too much time on my hands. But the Offspring Forces MUST BE STOPPED.

We are the 99%, people.

Never forget it.